


Close Enough to Touch

by sami_jo



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Denial of Feelings, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-05-05 00:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14605032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sami_jo/pseuds/sami_jo
Summary: Cullen left romantic feelings behind him long ago. He doesn’t want Liam Lavellan. Nope. He definitely does not see those bright green eyes in his daydreams and is definitely not watching the Inquisitor everywhere he goes. Dorian definitely can’t see right through him either.





	1. No Place for Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Cullen is a bit more broken than is cannon (and obviously bi). This picks up after they are a Skyhold. The line Cullen uses to turn an Inquisitor down in Haven who isn’t a female elf or human always intrigued me. He says, “I cannot offer you more than friendship.”, not some variation on, “I’m not interested in men/dwarves/qunari etc.” That ambiguity is where this fic was born (and where my flirtatious male elf went off the rails from his intended romance).
> 
> These two invaded my brain and got chatty, so until they shut up there will be snippets of them instead of what I am suppose to be writing.

“You should really just ask me whatever it is you wish to ask me, Commander. Splitting your attention is not aiding your game.” Dorian set his knight down and quirked an eyebrow at Cullen. He waited until the commander chanced a quick look up from rubbing his neck and examining his suddenly very interesting boots. “Check mate. Now, why don’t you find your tongue while I reset the board. I would find it for you, but I suspect you might object.”

“I, uhm, I yes, well it’s...it’s nothing really.”

“Oh come now, Commander, clearly something has you squirming and as much as I would love for it to be me, I doubt I’m your type.”

Cullen let out a groan and rubbed his face with his hands. He sighed heavily and took a deep breath. “I was just wondering how you and the Inquisitor were, uhm, doing.”

“Doing, now. Whatever do you mean?”

“It’s just that Mother Giselle said you were”

Dorian cut him off sharply, “Mother Giselle would do well to mind her own business.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude, I just...”

“Worried that I would tarnish our sweet innocent Inquisitor with my nasty Tevene ways?” Dorian snapped.

“No, that’s not it at all. I just...I...I’m making a mess of things aren’t I? Dorian, you have more than proven yourself to me. I shouldn’t have pried.” He sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck again with a pained expression. “The Inquisitor deserves to be happy.” he said, almost too quietly to hear.

Dorian’s quick anger at the mention of Mother Giselle fled at the sight of the man before him. Cullen looked more broken than usual tonight, the dark circles under his eyes suggested he was getting even less sleep than usual. “Cullen,” he waited for the man to look up, “there is nothing more than friendship between the Inquisitor and I. Liam is a dear friend, as are you. I did not expect to find that here of all places.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I may have overreacted a bit at the mention of the dear prying Mother Giselle.” Cullen managed something that was almost a smile in response as he shook his head. “So if you aren’t offended by my predilections or worried I will corrupt Liam...you wouldn’t have been asking out of personal interest, now would you Commander?”

“I, no, of course not! I just...I”

“Breathe, Commander. I won’t say a word to him about you watching him wherever he goes, or the fact that you turn a lovely shade of red whenever you talk with him, or the fact that you watch him leave every time we head out to whatever Maker-foresaken place we need to fix and watch him return, anxiously checking for any sign he is injured.” He paused a moment to meet Cullen’s wide eyes, “I won’t tell him, but perhaps you should.”

“I don’t, I mean, I’m not...we’re friends. I cannot offer him more than that and he...”

“He deserves to be happy. So you said, and I agree. He is a good man, one of the finest.” Dorian caught Cullen’s gaze and held it, “As are you.” He saw Liam entering the garden behind Cullen, “Inquisitor! Care to join us for a drink? Neither of us seems to be in the mood for chess tonight.”

Liam sent a warm smile of greeting to Dorian then turned a concerned gaze on Cullen. “Everything all right? You two usually relish the chance to play chess.”

Cullen stood so quickly he nearly tipped his chair over. “I should get back. Thank you for the game, Dorian.”

Liam caught Cullen’s arm, “Cullen?”

“I’m fine, Inquisitor, just a long day.” Cullen looked down at the hand still on his arm, closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “I’ll just take my leave. Goodnight, Inquisitor, Dorian.”

Liam stood with his hand still raised and watched Cullen’s retreating back. The commander’s shoulders were slumped like he was carrying the weight of the world on his back. Liam looked at Dorian, worry etched on his face, “I should go talk with him.”

“Give him a bit. I don’t think he is ready to talk about it.” Liam cast another worried look after Cullen but allowed himself to be led towards the bar. “Now, join me for a drink. You know I hate drinking alone.”

“And you want me to run interference between you and Bull.”

“I want no such thing. He is simply infuriating and insufferable and”

Liam cut him off with a grin, “and you want to climb him like a tree.”

“I want no such thing!”

“Whatever you say. I’ll just ignore the fact that he looks at you like a starving man looks at a banquet.”

“He does not!”

“He does, and you have done your best to look edible.”

Cullen turned to watch their banter from the shadows of a doorway until Dorian caught him, then he turned to walk back to his quarters. His arm still felt hot where Liam had held it. He’d tried to shut down Liam’s gentle flirting in Haven, had told him they could only be friends. He hadn’t felt this way in so long: the flush of warmth at Liam’s teasing, the way his smile would light up a room, the way he always checked in on him, as if he was the one facing danger every day, not the young elf who had been thrust into leading the inquisition. He’d tried to tell himself it was just respect for the man who carried himself with such grace, who handled everything they had thrown at him with thoughtful compassion, kindness in the face of cruelty, the strength that his lithe form should not have been capable of. He didn’t like men that way. He didn’t deserve the care that shone in those eyes. The Inquisition was his repentance. He had long since put such desires behind him.

He did not want the Inquisitor in such a way. He could not. Desire had no place in his world now.


	2. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen’s past still haunts him.

He woke from a nightmare. Liam’s face had been everywhere, every dead mage had become him, his dead Templar friends wore Liam’s face, the mage possessed spoke with Liam’s voice. He could still smell the blood and acrid ozone burn of magic. He saw ghost images of blood wherever he looked. He could hear Liam’s terrified voice begging him not to take him to the circle, not to make him tranquil. 

A splash of ice cold water from his basin brought him closer to himself. Cullen buried himself in paperwork and monitoring the new recruits as they trained. By the noon meal his head was pounding and the thought of food made his stomach turn. 

Cullen spent the rest of the day snapping at people. The newest lyrium shipment had arrived and been brought to his office to be doled out to the Templars at Skyhold. He could practically hear it calling him, promising a reprieve from the thoughts that haunted him.

He couldn’t do this.

He would hand in his resignation to Cassandra and disappear as soon as she found a replacement. The Inquisition deserved better than him. She would understand. She had to.

But she didn’t. When the Inquisitor interrupted their argument he managed a strangled apology to Liam and fled back to his office. The crate of lyrium rations still taunted him from the corner. He got a box, place it on his desk and opened it.

The familiar philter, spoon, knife and other paraphernalia greeted him. He reached a shaking hand out and stopped himself. He could hear Liam’s voice telling him he was brave for not taking it, asking if he could help. Those words had brought such warmth to him. He wanted to be the man Liam seemed to see.

But he couldn’t continue like this. The memories intruding on every moment, thoughts of Liam, desires he had long thought dead—he could not serve like this. He had sworn himself to the Inquisition. Could he bear to fail at this too?

“Cullen?”

Concern. Tenderness. How could he face Liam again if he took it.

“Cullen, are you all right?”

He threw the lyrium across the room. He saw it smash against the wall next to Liam, the real Liam.

Liam was here. He was not an illusion. Cullen’s knees went out and he caught himself on the desk. Liam raced forward to catch him. He couldn’t bear that touch right now, not like this. He turned to cling to his book shelf. 

Liam was talking. He wasn’t even sure what the Inquisitor was saying but the tone, the concern, the care, even tenderness, it broke his last defenses. He was babbling about needing the lyrium, but not wanting it, not wanting to fail again, words just spilling out pounding the wall with his fist.

Then strong arms were around him. “This isn’t about the Inquisition, Cullen. Do you want to keep taking it?”

Cullen closed his eyes and sank into the contact. Did he really want to take it? No, he just wanted the torment to stop. He managed to shake his head and utter a weak, “No.”

“Then don’t.”

It was said so softly, right near his ear. Maker he wanted this, but he didn’t deserve it. Liam needed to know what kind of monster he truly was.

So he told him. Kinloch hold, the ache in his chest as he remembered the things he had said to Lital, to the Hero of Ferelden, to the woman he loved. She died not knowing. She died while his anger still burned bright. The horrors of Kirkwall. The dead innocents. Abominations. All the regrets. He was barely aware of the words that poured out of him. Liam asked a few gentle questions but mostly let him talk, standing within reach but not quite touching. He slowly came back to himself and realized he felt better for having said it, even if it ruined his relationship with Liam.

“These memories have always haunted me. If I cannot endure them”

A strong hand gripped his elbow and turned him to face Liam. Intense green eyes bored into his, “You can, and you will not endure them alone. Cullen, you are not alone, here.”

No anger in that face, no judgement, no repulsion, no fear; just kindness and concern. He allowed himself to be lost in that gaze for a few long seconds. “I...thank you. I am not proud of the man I was.”

“You should be. Cullen, people react out of anger and fear all the time. What is rare is someone who can admit he did so and change. You endured what very few people could have. You remained a good man. It did not break you, it changed you. There are many on both sides who bear fault, you are not one of them.

“Now, go get some rest even if you cannot sleep. Consider yourself off duty until I leave for Emprise du Lion day after tomorrow. Cassandra and I can handle your duties until then.” Liam gave his shoulder a final squeeze then headed out the door, turning at the last moment, “And no, I do not want to find you sneaking back to your desk! I’ll order you to another game of Wicked Grace with Josie and hide all your clothes until we leave!” He chuckled at Cullen’s horrified look and closed the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They are still feeling chatty. And angsty. There are at least three more chapters at least partially written.


	3. Comfort of Confessions

Time off had not helped Cullen resolve his feelings for the Inquisitor, but some rest had improved his ability to handle the symptoms of withdrawal. He was avoiding Liam, however. Every time Cullen saw the elf all he could think of was the feeling of Liam close to him—strong arms, lithe body, liquid green eyes the shade of a stormy sea. Liam came by to check on him repeatedly and all he could manage was to stammer that he needed some time. 

Time is what he got as the Inquisitor and his companions left on schedule for the Emprise. Cullen watched them depart from the battlements and exchanged a wave with Liam. Then the worry set in. The possibility that the last words he would have with Liam would be a raw confession followed by his cowardice haunted him.

He tried not to hover in Lelianna’s tower begging for news. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Liam’s own abilities or those of his companions, but there was so much danger. The reports coming from the Emprise did not ease his mind. It sounded like a nightmare. Memories hovered too close to the surface of all the times he had failed to protect. Whatever Liam said, he knew the blame was still his. A week went by, then two and then a third with the news becoming ever more grim. They couldn’t keep their troops stationed there for more than a few days at a time without the effects of the massive amounts of red lyrium showing themselves. The inner circle was strong, but they couldn’t possibly be faring much better.

Finally, almost a month after their departure they were headed back and expected within the hour. Cullen made his way to the courtyard when the horn sounded their return determined to at least put their friendship to rights. They were all on their feet and moving under their own power, but every one looked ready to topple over. The mages in particular looked worse for the wear. Dorian held his head with both hands as if afraid it would explode otherwise. Vivienne looked nothing like her usual poised self. Her clothes were rumpled and mud-spattered and she walked as if her bones were made of glass. Solas handed his reigns to a stable boy and stormed off, the living embodiment of a storm cloud.

“That was a shit show” was all Iron Bull said as he walked past, presumably toward the tavern and a tankard or twenty of the poison he drank.

Liam watched him go with an exhausted half smile. “Not quite the words I’d use, but fairly accurate. At least we found a lead on Samson. What they were doing, I don’t even have words to describe that level of evil. The Templars have gone too far.”

“They aren’t really Templars any longer.”

“Aren’t they? Someone should tell the people they were kidnapping, then.”

Cullen took a step back at the heat in Liam’s words. He’d never seen him anywhere close to this angry before. “I’m not condoning their actions, you have to know that.”

“I..” he let out a disgusted sigh, “I’m sorry, Cullen. I’m not angry with you, just angry in general. I’m not fit company for anything but a hot bath right now.” He walked past, shaking his head and avoiding speaking to anyone else.

 

* * * * * * *

 

Liam found Cullen on the battlements the next day. He was feeling more himself then he had in months, just enjoying the warm sunlight.

“Feeling better?” Liam seemed unsure of his welcome.

Cullen turned to him with a smile, “Much, thanks to you. I shouldn’t have pushed myself so hard that day. I’d never shared what happened at the circle with anyone. Thank you for that.”

He was rewarded with a bright smile, “There’s nothing to thank me for and I’m truly sorry about when we arrived back. That place was the worst thing I think I’ve ever seen.”

“No need to apologize. Between the red lyrium and the things the Red Templars were doing, it’s little wonder you were angry.” They turned to sit next to one another. “How are you holding up?”

“Truthfully?” Cullen nodded and Liam continued, “I’m terrified. There are so many people depending on me, on us. I was training to lead a clan 30 or 40 years from now, not” he made a helpless motion with his hands indicating all of Skyhold, “this.”

“You’re doing well, you know; and as you reminded me, you don’t have to do it alone.”

“I know, it’s just,” he paused and flailed his hands as if trying to grab the correct word, “overwhelming. That future that Dorian and I saw—everyone I loved was dead or dying, everything I cared about was destroyed. There was no room for anything good or kind. Nothing beautiful. The Emprise was far too close to that nightmare. We can’t fail.”

Cullen nudged his shoulder with his own until Liam looked at him, “We won’t.”

Liam smiled then leaned his head back, eyes closed with the sun shining on his face and wind whipping through his dark hair. Their sides were pressed together. It was a comfortable silence. Cullen admired his strong features for a moment then leaned his own head back to enjoy the sun.

The quiet rumble of Liam’s voice interrupted the silence. “The first time I asked you about the Blight and Ferelden’s circle there was a reason, more than one, really. Lital was my cousin. We were born into the same clan. I followed her around like a lost puppy.” He pause and chuckled, “She tolerated me. She was only three years older, but that is an immense difference when you are both under ten. We came into our magic young. Tali was the third mage in the clan. I made the fourth and our keeper didn’t feel up to mentoring both of us, so I was sent to clan Lavellan. I was just five years old. I got letters from the keeper and from Tali and others in the clan for the next year or so, but then clan Surana just disappeared. No one heard anything from them. There were rumors of a raid by humans with no survivors, and as the years passed with no word from anyone, it seemed they were correct.”

Cullen turned a shocked face to Liam, “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

Liam shook his head, eyes still closed. “Don’t be. I still don’t know what happened to the clan or how she ended up in Ferelden’s circle.” He reached a hand to squeeze Cullen’s arm, “Those answers may have died with her. I’m glad to know there were good people there with her and at least one person who cared for her. Word that she was alive only came to us along with the news that she was a Warden and had approached one of the clans to invoke the Warden’s treaties.

“I was at the battle for Denerim. Our clan sent hunters to fight and my Keeper and I went as healers. My husband, Darrian, was with the hunters. They were almost all archers. A group of darkspawn got past the Ferelden troops holding a gate and went straight for the them. The hunters had been paired with a group of mages trying to provide them with cover fire to drive the bulk of the horde back. The human troops gave chase, they surrounded the archers and mages to protect them. They would all have fallen otherwise. Darrian was struck protecting a pair injured human soldiers. All three were brought in together. The soldiers insisted we see to Darrian first, that they wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him. It was” Liam paused to take a deep shaky breath, “it was too late to save him. He knew it. He had promised he would come back to me and I think he held on just long enough to keep his promise and say goodbye.”

“I didn’t even know you had a husband. Maker, Liam, I brushed you off as if you were asking out of some prurient curiosity.”

Liam opened his eyes and took in the shocked look on Cullen’s face and gave him a wan smile. “Don’t beat yourself up. You couldn’t have known. I doubt even Lelianna knows.” He leaned forward to wrap his arms around his legs and focused on some point beyond his feet. “Our own men wanted to leave him for dead. The friends of the soldiers he protected insisted on carrying him themselves. When they arrived at the healing tent, two healers from Ferelden’s circle jumped into action. They couldn’t save him, but they gave us a few precious minutes and allowed his end to come without pain. We actually said our wedding vows then and there. Our Keeper had wanted us to wait until we were a bit older. A Templar acted as our witness. I assume he was there with the circle mages. Keeper didn’t even realize what had happened until after he passed.

“The Templar was very kind. If I heard his name, I don’t recall it. I remember his eyes were grey and seemed older than his age. They reminded me of a storm. He sort of kept an eye on me the rest of the time we were there and made sure I took breaks and ate. When I first met you, you reminded me of him.  I threw myself into healing. It took all of my focus and left me too exhausted to think.” Liam let out a low chuckle. “I’m not entirely sure why I just told you all of that, or maybe I do. Human strangers cared for my husband when our own clan did not. Circle mages who knew nothing of any of us gave him comfort when I could not. A Templar who would have normally been tasked with hauling me off to a circle protected me and watched over me when he certainly was not required to do so. It’s my reminder that most people are basically good whatever label has been affixed to them. That, and it is the only other time I felt this overwhelmed and out of my depth.”

”We all are. We’ve lost too many good people, just like during the blight. The difference is that this is at least partly a disaster of our own making.” Cullen nudged Liam until the smaller man met his eyes, “You are doing a remarkable job, better than we ever hoped for and far more than anyone could have reasonably expected. You remind people to be better than they think they are.”

”I...thank you, Cullen.”

The two men lapsed into a comfortable silence soaking in the warmth of the sun until the squawking of two crows roused them.

“Ahh, Lelianna’s little spies.” Liam’s smile took the sting from his words. “One for each of us. Want to bet those notes are summons to the war room?”

“Duty calls, it seems.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They are still nattering on, they just refuse to do so in chronological order, so things are dribbling out a bit slower than intended.


	4. Shields of Anger

They finally had a location for Samson. Cullen insisted on joining Liam’s group. It was more personal than he wanted to admit. He had known Samson, liked and trusted the man before his ouster from the order. To see him fallen so far raised unsettling questions that Cullen didn’t really wish to face. He had to be there, had to look him in the eye and ask him why.

They were leaving in the morning. Cullen had given up on sleeping long ago. Anger, masking other less pleasant emotions he wasn’t prepared to examine too closely, had him too keyed up to sleep. He took to pacing the ramparts under the light of the moon. He wanted solitude, but even at this late hour there were patrols and others going about their business. Keeping up appearances, even in such short bursts, was more than he could manage. In a final bid to be alone he climbed the tallest tower. This was the last to be touched by repairs and was thus abandoned and ignored by most of Skyhold’s residents.

He emerged through the final trap door and took a deep breath. The vast expanse of stars and cold air calmed him. He closed his eyes and let the wind rush past him, face turned towards the moon and stars.

“Why am I not surprised you couldn’t sleep either.” The quiet voice and low chuckle from a dark corner of the ramparts startled him into drawing his sword before he had fully processed who it was. “I’m sorry to startle you. I probably blend in a bit better than I intended here.”

“Liam! I didn’t expect to find anyone here. I’m sorry, I’ll just, uhmmm, put this away.” Cullen gestured to his sword and slid it back home into its scabbard.

“Don’t worry, Commander. I presume you came here for the same reason I did. This may be the only place in all of Skyhold where one can be reasonably assured of being alone for any amount of time. I wouldn’t have expected me either.”

Cullen watched Liam rise to his feet, his dark leathers and hair blending with the shadows to make his form in distinct. Cullen laughed, “I see my secret place is not as secret as I thought.”

“No, but the climb up questionable ladders and over rubble piles does discourage all but the most determined of loners.” Liam stepped closer and Cullen could make out the tired smile on his face. “I’ll leave you to it. I have hogged the solitude for hours now.”

He headed towards the ladder, but before he could disappear down it Cullen stopped him, “Wait, you don’t have to go if you don’t want. I’m not up to the rest of them and my rooms were closing in on me, but I wouldn’t mind your company. That is, if you don’t mind mine, I mean, right now, or well, I mean, if you would rather be alone I could just go. I should probably just go.” Cullen found himself absently rubbing the back of his neck again before he stopped himself and started to walk towards the ladder.

Another of Liam’s deep chuckles stopped him. “I cannot imagine a time when I would turn down your company.”

Cullen’s blush of nervousness turned into one of pleasure at his words. He was grateful for the darkness that was folded around them. “I...thank you.”

Liam resumed his place against the ramparts and Cullen soon joined them. They sat in silence, watching the stars.

Liam’s voice, low and warm, broke the silence. “When we were children, Darrian and I would lie by the fire pit at night and watch the stars. We made up our own constellations with wild stories to go with them. We would stay up all night and be useless all day. It drove Keeper mad.”

“Tell me some of them.”

“They were nothing more than childish whims.”

“Not to the two of you. I’ll bet you remember them all. So tell me one.”

Liam was quiet for a moment, studying Cullen’s face, then he seemed to come to some sort of decision, “Do you see those two bright stars there with the sort of box of stars below them? We decided that was a halla. It was being chased by a bear, the sort of rectangle of stars to the left with all the little stars towards the middle. The little ones were it’s claws. The halla was saved by the brave hunter. Somehow, Darrian though that line of stars above looked like a bow. He was, of course, the brave hunter saving the halla.”

Cullen chuckled. “Of course. And where were you in all this?”

“I was the healer who fixed up the halla’s scrapes. That little triangle of stars off to the right was suppose to be me.” He shook his head and laughed, “We had grand plans to be the stuff of legends. Legendary deeds being saving halla, of course.” He paused and sighed. “It’s hard to imagine being that innocent now.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. Not really. It’s bittersweet to remember who we were and to think of what might have been. It isn’t bad, I just feel very far from that little boy.”

“I know what you mean. I could think of nothing more noble than being a Templar as a boy. I terrorized my siblings, scarecrows and a multitude of goats with wooden sticks I pretended were swords. It’s a wonder my siblings still speak to me.”

“Those poor goats. I wonder if they have passed down tales of the curly blonde-haired midget with the stick to terrorize the kids into behaving.”

Cullen snorted. “They might well have. It would serve me right to be the stuff of little goat nightmares.” He was quiet for a beat, lost in thought. “I never thought what it would mean to use an actual sword, why it would be wielded as a Templar. Not so heroic from this side.”

Liam replied softly, “Being a hero is decidedly overrated.”

They lapsed into silence again, each heavy with memories but soothed by the other’s presence, their shoulders pressed together. They remained together in silence until the first light of dawn peeked over the horizon.

“I should gather my things before Cassandra comes hunting for me.” Liam said as he rose stiffly to his feet and turned to offer Cullen a hand up. “Thank you. Your companionship kept my thoughts from darker roads.”

“As did yours. I’ll meet you at the stables.”

* * * * * * *

The trip to the Temple of Dumat was quiet and tense. Scouts were reporting frenetic activity at the temple suggesting that either their approach had been noticed or they had a spy in their ranks. Time was not on their side and they knew it.

They reached the temple two full days ahead of schedule. It was clearly in the process of being abandoned with entire sections ablaze, items left behind haphazardly in piles and nothing but a skeleton crew defending it.

It didn’t need more than a skeleton crew. Red lyrium had turned the men that remained behind into monsters with incredible strength who did not stop in the face of pain. Given the notes they had found it seemed likely that the pain from battle wounds was overwhelmed by the pain of the red lyrium itself. They were in a mad rage fueled by pain and anger. The buzz from so much red lyrium in proximity to the party was making them all short tempered as well. Cullen couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have it actually inside his body.

Whatever sympathy he might feel for what these men were enduring, it didn’t change the fact that they were trying to kill the Inquisitor and everyone with him. Cullen endured every fight with his heart in his throat, trying to keep Liam safe. Every death they dealt seemed to take something out of the Inquisitor and every blow that fell too close to him left Cullen’s fears with a bit more free reign.

In the end it was clear that Samson had gotten away. Liam had drained himself nearly to the point of unconsciousness trying to save Maddox, but it was no use. As the Inquisitor gently closed the tranquil’s eyes and quietly ordered that the dead be given final rites and be burned, Cullen collapsed in on himself. The information they had found suggested that these men had willingly followed Samson. Just how horrible had he been that the men he once commanded would follow a disgraced addict over him? How cruel had he become that a tranquil would place his loyalty and trust in Samson over him and the Inquisition.

His very presence was a liability to the cause. How many of these men would have joined the Inquisition if not for him?

Cullen’s internal war began to show during the trip back to Skyhold. He snapped at everyone and refused all contact. Inside he was seething. Anger at Samson, at Meredith, at the Chantry, at the Order, but mostly anger at himself. He had failed everyone and everything he had ever held dear. He had even more blood on his hands than he had known. Cassandra and Liam had to see that now.

His mood continued to darken once they reached Skyhold. He knew he was taking it out on those who didn’t deserve it. Cassandra, Liam, even Varric and Dorian tried to engage him. Gentle greetings were met with snarls. He knew it was wrong. He told himself he was simply making it easier for Liam to tell him to leave.

Two days after their return he snarled at a messenger and sent her sobbing from his office. He collapsed into his chair, head in his hands, just wanting it all to end. The quiet snick of his door closing and a soft wash of magic that he recognized as Liam’s throwing all the latches startled him back to his feet.

“Don’t even think about snapping at me, Cullen. Mouth shut. Get upstairs, change out of your armor and put something warm on. Do not argue with me. You have 5 minutes.”

“I...yes, Inquisitor.” Cullen hung his head and did as instructed. So this was how it would end. He deserved worse. Once changed he presented himself to Liam who simply unlocked one of the doors and gestured for Cullen to follow him without a word.

Cullen paid little attention to where they were going until he realized they were climbing the abandoned tower where both sought solitude not so long ago. He emerged on the roof to find a lit brazier, a pile of pillows and blankets and food and drink laid out. He turned with a question on his lips to find Liam closing the trap door and securing it with a spell.

Liam met his questioning gaze, “We are talking. I’m not certain what has you so tied up in knots but I am heartily tired of watching one of my dearest friends self-destruct. So, we are staying here until you see fit to stop beating yourself up. Knowing how stubborn you are, I am prepared to be here for a while. Cassandra is standing in for you.” The anger that had been threatening to flare, that had been his shield for days, drained from him suddenly.

Cullen looked around him and swallowed a sob, “Cassandra should find my replacement.”

“Even if I agreed with you, which I do not, you would still be my friend.” He continued softly, “Cullen, don’t you see that you are more than just ‘Commander’ to the people here?” Liam moved slowly to stand in front of Cullen as if he were approaching a frightened wounded animal.

“I shouldn’t be.” Shame washed over him like a tidal wave. The pain dropped him to his knees. He had wanted to be better, to be good, to do good. So much blood was on his hands, so many failures. His evil had been lain out for Liam to see. How could he stand here and call him a friend?

Gentle arms wrapped around him, holding him carefully as if he were made of spun glass. A gentle hand pulled his head to Liam’s chest and he felt Liam lay a kiss on the side of his head. “You are one of the finest people I know. I am watching you tear yourself apart. You are not responsible for Samson’s choices, Cullen. You are not responsible for the fact that he was able to manipulate so many into believing him. You did not addict him to lyrium. You did not order Maddox made tranquil. You did not create the system that made all of you so vulnerable and you certainly did not force that man to choose to follow an insane ancient dark spawn magister of all things.”

Cullen was shaking his head, “They trusted him. They believed him. Maddox didn’t trust me even as a tranquil. I left him to Samson’s clutches. All of them. How horrible must I have been that they would follow him to this madness instead of the Inquisition? How many have died because of what I became?!”

Liam’s arms tightened around him and he let himself be held while he sobbed. Cullen clung to him like a drowning man to a raft. He sobbed until he was nothing but an empty exhausted shell barely able to hold himself up.

Liam gently cupped his face with his hands. Cullen could feel the magic pulsing through the mark and the rough callouses on his palms from wielding his staff. “Look at me.” Gentle pressure brought his face up to meet Liam’s. “Do you realize that Lelianna was at Kinloch hold with Lital?” Cullen felt his eyes widen in surprise. “She once told me that while Lital and I were the reason she thought mages should be free, what she saw in the tower was the reason she understood those who wanted to simply kill anyone who exhibited any mage gift immediately. You endured what very few in all of Thedas could have. No one walks away from a battle with a demon over their mind and soul without scars, and you didn’t survive just one battle, you survived a war. Magic is the most powerful tool in our world. Treating it as harmless would be like pretending fire cannot destroy simply because it can also be used to cook and keep you warm. The Templar Order should have given you support to allow you to heal. Instead they sent you from one inferno to another. Kirkwall turned many people into monsters: mages, Templars, ordinary citizens. So much evil has been done there that the fade is awash in it. It seeps into the regular world like a sewer leak, tainting everything. And yet, here you are—worse for the wear, having seen too much and made choices you regret, but still having the moral compass to regret them. Evil people do not regret having hurt others.

“Cullen, I will say it again: You are one of the finest people I have ever known. Full stop. You know right from wrong and you consistently try to do what is right, not what is easy. You inspire our forces. It is you they follow, you they try to impress and emulate, you they trust with their lives—not just to preserve them but to determine when their loss is an acceptable cost. I trust you, with my life and with all I hold dear. We all make mistakes, but you make your decisions trying to do the right thing. That matters.”

“How can you possibly trust me, after all I’ve done?”

“What? Saved us all at Haven? Searched for me in the snow after Haven and carried me to safety? Saved me at the Temple of Dumat? Accepted free mages into our ranks and helped former Templars learn to work with them as friends and equals? How could I not trust you? I will understand if the weight of so many lives is too much. You have given more than anyone could be expected to give. I believe you are the best person for the role of Commander, but I will understand. I will say it again, you are not just the Commander, you are my friend. I can make do without my Commander. I cannot make do without my friend.”

Cullen searched Liam’s face but found only sincerity and concern. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? Having limits to your endurance like the rest of us mere mortals?” A small smile played across the Inquisitor’s lips and Cullen did his best to return it. “Now, I know for a fact that you haven’t been eating, so we are eating. Then, you are getting some sleep before you fall over. Then we can talk. And no, I have no intention of letting you leave until I am satisfied that you are ok. Cassandra is scarier than you are and she’ll have my balls if I don’t return you to her whole.”

The mental image that conjured tore a laugh from Cullen. “I admit she can be a bit intimidating.”

“That’s like saying the ocean can be a bit wet. I half expected her to scold the last dragon we faced into submission. She was actually lecturing it mid-fight for having the audacity to try to light her on fire.”

Cullen dissolved into helpless almost hysterical giggles at this. He knew it wasn’t quite that funny, but it provided a needed release for the tension he was still holding. “Thank you.”

“For being properly afraid of Cass?”

“No, for being a better friend than I deserve.” He felt a quick swat to the back of his head. “Ouch!”

“Going to keep talking about yourself that way? I could just hand you to Bull to literally beat some sense into you. He has this thing where he has someone hit him really hard with a stick until he feels better.”

“I think I’ll pass.”

Liam handed him stew that had been kept warm in one of Dagna’s amazing enchanted pots along with a hunk of hearty bread and he realized that he really was hungry. An hour later with his belly full he found himself dozing on the pillows that had been laid out. Liam tucked a blanket around him and he enjoyed the first night of peaceful sleep he’d had in years.

A morning of talking and another meal he was ordered to eat and he really did feel more like himself. He was allowed back to his office where he drew Cassandra into a brief, silent hug of gratitude and resumed his duties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They still feel chatty. There is another long chapter and a shorter interlude. I’m not certain whether I will post the explicit bits within the story itself or as a linked story. But since these two won’t shut up I plan to finish it up rather quickly so I can get back to what I am suppose to be writing without them butting in.


	5. Satinalia

Satinalia celebrations had taken over Skyhold. A bonfire had been lit in the courtyard and another just outside the tavern. Food and drink flowed as freely as music and dancing. The members of the Inquisition, armies, servants, inner circle, merchants and noble visitors alike, were making the most of the brief respite from the grim reality that lay outside their high stone walls. Guards were on short shifts to ensure that everyone had a chance to participate in the revelry. Even Solas was sitting on the periphery of a group that contained most of the inner circle, Bull’s Chargers and a handful of scouts; though he looked as though he may have been drug there against his will. Cullen wouldn’t have put it past the Inquisitor to do exactly that. He had been adamant that they all needed a morale boost after the seemingly endless stream of battles, atrocities and loss they had endured over the last several months.

Several glasses of a deceptively strong sweet punch had been thrust into his hands early in the festivities by Dorian. That had combined with a lack of food to leave the edges of his senses feeling blurred and his inhibitions feeling rather flimsy, which had probably been Dorian’s intention as he’d been patted on the back and told to, “Go find the Inquisitor now” after the fifth glass. Instead he had carefully climbed the stairs to the ramparts to watch the revelry.

He hid himself in the shadows of the above the courtyard to watch Liam as he joined a group of mostly elves engage in what seemed to be a competition of acrobatic one-upsmanship. Liam’s voice filtered through the rest of the merriment. The low rumble of his laugh struck a chord of desire deep within him as he watched the Inquisitor’s lithe form execute an impossible-looking flip and twist, landing gracefully on the balls of his feet. His warm skin glowed in the firelight, shirt open almost to his waist, tunic long since discarded, dark hair loose from the long braid that usually restrained it.

Cullen pushed himself away from rampart with a groan, tearing his eyes off the Inquisitor. He walked the ramparts quickly, headed toward the neglected tower where he and Liam kept meeting. He needed the cold wind to clear his mind and cool his libido. He climbed the rickety ladders quickly and sat with his back against the solid stone. He tried to focus on the feel of the cold to center himself and clear his mind, but his thoughts kept straying back to Liam. Memories of every time they had touched barreled through his mind. The ghost of Liam’s touch on his skin leaving fire in its wake. The memory of liquid green eyes that seemed to see to his very soul burned in his mind. His cock was rigid and protesting its confinement in his tight leather breeches.

“Cullen! Somehow I guessed you would be hiding up here. Please tell me you had some fun tonight.” Liam’s head emerged from the top of the ladder.

Cullen tried to cover his shame, grateful for the darkness. “Dorian tried to get me drunk and I watched some excellent acrobatic tricks from you. I’m just not one for large groups, I guess.”

“I figured as much. Are you sure you are alright? I know it’s been a rough few weeks.”

Of course Liam would be worrying about him, tonight of all nights when the entire point was to put worry aside.

“I am alright. I just let my imagination take me places I shouldn’t. Alcohol was not the best idea.”

Liam stepped close, concern clear on his face. “You still don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

Cullen found himself rubbing the back of his neck again and quickly brought his hand back to his side. “I will not allow myself to get into such a state again, I promise. This was just...the result of too much alcohol and too little discipline.”

“Ahh, so the lesson here is that we send you to play cards with Josie when you are drinking.”

Liam’s laugh was almost enough to make up for Cullen’s embarrassment. Almost. “Maker, will I never live that down?!”

“Unfortunately, no. Cole is still marveling that your armor comes off.”

“Maker’s breath, you people will be the death of me.” Cullen rubbed his face with his hands trying to will the blush away.

“Now, Commander, we would never kill you off. Harass you until you are blushing, trick your clothes off you, and possibly assist Sera in replacing your hair product with honey, yes; but definitely not kill you off.”

“I do not use hair product.”

“Mmmmhmmm. You just happened to fall head first into a bucket of honey that day?”

“You are a horrible man, you know this.” Cullen couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“I’ll make it up to you by gallantly walking you to your quarters. I can protect you from further offers of alcoholic drinks and falling in pots of honey.”

They walked together quietly, watching the revelry continue below them. Cullen couldn’t help stealing glances at Liam. Guilt still warred with desire. He had told this man no, and he still believed it to be the only choice. What could he possibly offer someone like him. It didn’t make the longing any easier.

When they finally reached his door Liam caught his arm. “Cullen, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I will be. This is just something I need to resolve for myself. Thank you, for your concern.”

Liam gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Alright then. I won’t pry. Just...take care of yourself.”

Cullen nodded and turned to enter his dark rooms.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the rating went up! Warning for passing reference to self harm that will be dealt with in another chapter.
> 
> It’s two-for-Tuesday! There are two, possibly three more in this series, both mostly written. Given the time of year, I make zero promises about when they will be up. 
> 
> Thank you to all who have read thus far! Dalish translations are in the end notes.

The Inquisitor rode out with his team the next day to clear out the remainder of Emprise du Lion. Worry crept into every waking moment. He was running the steps of the library tower to ask Leliana if there was any word several times a day. After Lelianna finally snapped at him, Cullen threw himself back into his work and hid in his office. He only left to supervise the training grounds.

When the horn finally sounded he tamped down the urge to race down and meet the Inquisitor. He looked out over the bridge instead. It was not the Inquisitor. Cassandra, Vivienne and Sera were slowly crossing the bridge leading a mount with what looked like a small person lashed to it. Cassandra and Vivienne seemed to be nursing injuries, tilted at odd angles in their saddles.

Cullen’s heart seized in his chest and he raced down the stairs and ran across the bridge to meet them.

“Where is he? Are you all right?” An out of breath Cullen grabbed the reigns to Cassandra’s horse.

Cassandra swung down from the saddle in obvious pain but still under her own power. “Relax, Commander. The Inquisitor was fine when we left him. We found a child trapped in the ruins of a house. Liam did what he could for her, but she needs time and regular healing, something we could not provide for her in the field. Dorian volunteered his mount and Liam ordered the three of us to bring her here. We sent word ahead, but apparently it did not reach you.”

“It did, it just didn’t beat you by much.” said Lelianna as she ran up behind Cullen, “I’m sorry, Commander, I assumed you would be by to check and I also assumed we would have another day. You made good time.” She gathered the reins of the horse carrying the young woman and nodded Vivienne ahead to alert the healers.

“It seemed best to move with all haste. She is heavily sedated. Men terrify her, particularly men in armor. Even Liam and Varric had to move carefully around her. I had hoped that once we were on the road and it was just women that we could reduce her dosage. That...was not a good idea.”

“She injured you?” Cullen struggled to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice.

“Vivienne startled her. It was unintentional, but she threw hot stew at me and then hit both of us on the head with the pot.”

Cullen let out a startled snort. “It seems I should train with you to improve your defense against flying cookware.”

Cassandra graced him with a tired smile. “Indeed. Cole seems to think he can help her once her body has healed, but I’m not entirely certain that rescuing her was a kindness. The Inquisitor wished to deal with one final matter before returning, and it seemed wise to send us ahead. Hopefully he will be here in a few days.”

They had been walking while they talked and were now at in front of the healers’ space. Cullen held the horses while Leliana and Cassandra unstrapped the young woman from the saddle and carried her in to the healers. He helped Sera take the horses to the barn and handed them off to Master Dennet.

The young elf was far more subdued than was usual. “Are you alright, Sera?”

“Arrows.”

“Pardon me?”

“Someone needs arrows. That. She.” Sera made a helpless gesture then her face hardened. “Arrows.”

Sera stared at him, seeming to challenge him to contradict her. “I’m more partial to swords myself, but yes, arrows will do.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say because she barked out a small laugh and said, “You aren’t half bad sometimes, Cully-wullykins.” She turned and walked off towards her rooms.

 

 * * * * * * *

 

The Inquisitor and the rest of his team returned three days later, just before sunset. It was three days filled with worry and distraction for Cullen. He didn’t even pretend he could hold off on greeting them, and just ran to the gate.

Liam looked careworn but whole. They all did. Clearing the last of the resistance in Emprise du Lion had clearly been worse than expected. Liam’s face brightened when he saw Cullen, though. The tired lines were still etched in his face, but it was something.

“Is everything alright, Commander? Did Cassandra and the rest make it safely?”

“They did, a bit worse for the wear. Apparently there was an incident with a cook pot.” Cullen chuckled at Liam’s raised eyebrow. “Everyone will be fine. Their young charge is recovering in the care of the healers. I have not checked on her for obvious reasons, but they expect her to recover physically. Let’s hope the Cole really can help with her mind.”

Liam shook his head, the pain of the last weeks etched in every movement, “I don’t even want to consider what happened to her. We had cleared out the western side where the Red Templars seemed most active and left the east side of the river for this trip thinking it hadn’t been as badly affected. We were wrong. The area was decimated. There is red lyrium everywhere, destroyed homes. It’s the worst we’ve seen. It should be such a beautiful place, so many elven ruins, mountains, the river. It...we should have cleared out both sides of the town the first trip.”

Liam looked like the weight of responsibility might crush him at any moment. Dorian walked up and put an arm around his shoulder, “We have been trying to convince him that he couldn’t possibly have known, that all indications were that the western side hadn’t been as badly ravaged and that we had all agreed that pursuing the information on Samson while it was fresh was a priority. That, and none of us could tolerate it any longer.”

The men assembled behind him were all nodding their heads. Varric walked past leading his mount to the stables. “Maybe you can talk some sense into Lucky here.”

Bull snorted a, “Good luck with that” on his way past. Solas took the reins of Liam’s beloved red hart on his way past and just nudged him at Cullen. They all cared, but they seemed too worn themselves to take the burden from the Inquisitor.

Cullen took the travel pack from Liam’s hands and steered him towards his office. News that the Inquisitor had returned was surely already making the rounds and Liam didn’t look up to weathering nobles just yet. If they were holed up in Cullen’s office the curious would assume they were discussing something important from the mission and leave him be.

Cullen didn’t mind the opportunity to care for Liam either, if he was being honest with himself.

Cullen maneuvered him into a chair. Liam groaned in approval. “I know this is probably a terrible chair because you are you and you would never put something comfortable here when something uncomfortable would do, but this may be the most comfortable place I have ever sat.” The grin on his face took any sting from his words.

“You seem to know me too well, but I do have one luxury that you are welcome to avail yourself of. There is a bath upstairs. The water is cold, but no one will bother you, and I’m certain you would feel better if you were wearing a bit less of the countryside. I can grab you a change of clothes and some food while you bathe.”

Liam blessed him with one of those beatific smiles that melted everyone, though the strain didn’t completely leave his face. “You read my mind. I’ll make an utter mess of it though. I am filthy. If you don’t mind me doing a bit of magic I can fix your cold water problem.”

Cullen chuckled, “Go on up the ladder. You can’t miss it. The water is coming from a cistern up above so there’s plenty to clean it with later. Do whatever magic you wish to make it hot for you. I’ll be back shortly. Should I take your bags to your quarters? And what did you pack to make these so heavy, a dragon?”

“Actually, three.” Cullen stopped and stared when Liam didn’t laugh at that.

“Three?!”

“Well, the remnants of, yes. Josie should be pleased. She can buy us the regard of a few more crazy nobles that way. I felt bad doing it, but they were a hazard nesting where they were and I definitely didn’t want them exposed to the red lyrium. The bridge had just been finished from the keep to the other side of the valley before we left. More elven ruins. A handful of Templars and other nasties. Mostly just dragons.”

“And you wonder why you are exhausted.” Cullen shook his head. “I’ll take these to your rooms. Are you safe to make it up the ladder and not fall asleep in the bath?”

Liam granted him another of those wan smiles, “I’ll be fine. Thank you, Cullen. I’m not up to facing the rest of it just yet, but I think I can conquer a bath.”

Cullen watched him tiredly climb the ladder then headed to the Inquisitor’s rooms. He marched through the hall like a man on a mission hoping no one would stop to ask why he was in the Inquisitor’s quarters. He was a terrible liar and Liam needed a break. Apparently it worked as the only response to him going in and out of Liam’s rooms was a quirked eyebrow from Leliana and a tired smile from Varric. He returned via the kitchens, grabbing cheese, bread and some mild ale over the cook’s protestations. He passed by the stables to check on Red. Liam would start to worry that he hadn’t been properly cared for once the fatigue passed, but the giant hart was happily eating, his coat gleaming in the lamplight.

Back in his office he put the food on the desk and threw the latches on the doors. He called up the ladder, “I’m back with clean clothes. I’m heading up the ladder now, I just didn’t wish to startle you.”

He emerged at the top to find Liam still in the tub. Steam was rising around him and the fading light of sunset made his skin almost glow. His dark hair was slicked back from his face by the water and his eyes were closed. Long slender fingers gripped the edge of the tub, his strong arms draped over the edge. Cullen’s breath caught in his throat. Maker but this man was beautiful.

“I failed them.” The words were almost too soft to hear and filled with such pain it took Cullen’s breath away. “I shouldn’t have rushed away once we got the information on Samson. I could have sent it back to Skyhold with Harding. I wanted an excuse to leave. We all did. The things they had done...Dorian and I had seen lyrium growing out of people in that future but these were farmers, children, innocents taken by people they used to trust. And the red lyrium, there’s just so much of it. I can’t describe what it’s like being around that much of it. It’s like being covered in demonic bees. I can hear it, this twisted song that seeps into your bones. We were all angry and paranoid and so exhausted. All I could think of was getting away from there, so I used the information on Samson as an excuse. But they couldn’t leave, those people we left behind. I told myself it would be better with the mine shut, that our people could remove the red lyrium and it would be fine. The demon wasn’t there to wreak havoc with the weather any longer. But it wasn’t fine.” A broken sob escaped him, “I was weak and I utterly failed them.”

Cullen crossed the room in two large steps and knelt beside the tub, covering one of the hands clutching at the tub in his own. “You did not fail them” he said firmly. Liam started to shake his head and Cullen caught his chin in a gentle hand, “You did not fail them. You did not kidnap innocents to farm red lyrium in, you did not turn away from your duty and abuse their trust, you did not invite a demon and give it free reign. Samson, Corypheus all of the Templars who followed blindly failed them, but you did not. Liam, look at me.”

Liam slowly met his steady gaze, agony and shame written across his features. He looked broken, defeated; this man who had faced dragons, an archdemon, darkspawn, certain death, the Imperial Court of Orlais, being tossed into the future and bodily into the fade with calm confidence and boundless optimism had finally reached his limit.

“There were children in those houses we ignored. They might still be alive if we’d just stayed a little longer.”

“And they would all be long dead if you hadn’t gone at all, and you might well be dead if you had stayed longer that first trip. Don’t give me that look, I saw what all of you looked like when you returned. Even if you could have tolerated it, which you could not, the rest of your team could not. There is a reason we rotate our soldiers through our posts there after no longer than a week even now. And did you forget that we have troops there who have been searching those areas as well. You made that possible.”

Liam’s eyes slipped closed again and he curled up on himself. “I see their faces every time I close my eyes. So many have died under my command or at my hand. So many died because of my choices. There is so much blood on my hands. I came here as a healer and now I’m better at destroying life than preserving it.”

“Don’t do this to yourself, Liam. We are alive because of you. We have hope because of you. Maker, we have put too much on you, but we are all here because of who you are.”

“It never feels like enough. There is no end to the need. Corypheus hasn’t won yet, but he is winning, Cullen, and I don’t know if I will ever be enough to stop him. Meanwhile the Orlesians play games with people’s lives as if they were disposable chess pieces. The Game. As if all the dead that have piled up on their orders are worthless markers. They abandoned these people so that they could waste still more lives to decide whose royal rump should sit on their blasted throne. The clerics are too busy arguing over who gets the prettiest hat to do anything useful. The Templars abandoned all reason. The only people taking all this seriously are the Fereldens and they haven’t the resources to protect their own people from bandits let alone from a mad ancient darkspawn magister monster with a god complex.” Liam punctuated his words by striking the side of the tub. He turned away from trying to smother a sob.

Cullen reached for him then stopped with a gasp. Liam’s back was crossed with angry red welts. There was a clear outline of what could only be a dragon’s foot splayed across his back. “Maker’s breath, Liam!”

_“Etunash._ You weren’t suppose to see that.” Liam turned hastily trying to hide the marks.

“Is there a particular reason you chose to leave those injuries untreated? You are the most capable healer in the Inquisition, and you were with Solas who is entirely capable of healing that. Maker, Liam, even some elfroot salve would have helped!”

“I did heal the ribs and other stuff.” Liam looked away from the horror on Cullen’s face. “We were all too tired to do more than what was absolutely critical at the time, and after...” He closed his eyes and continued so quietly Cullen could barely hear him, “After it was a distraction from this. I didn’t plan to let it fester, I just couldn’t afford to fall apart on the road. I can’t afford to fall apart now.” He finished with the barest of whispers, his head in his hands.

Cullen laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I think I understand. I know a bit about trying not to drown in despair. I seem to recall you saving me from myself a few times now. Let me help. You are so ready to take up everyone else’s burdens. Let us do the same for you. Please, let me.”

Liam’s anguished gaze met his. The pain in those eyes broke his heart. Liam tried opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and merely nodded.

“I have a pot of healing salve. Wrap a towel around you and come over to the bed. You can get some food in your system while I bandage you up.”

Cullen turned to gather food and find the salve and to give Liam some privacy while he stepped out of the bath. When he returned, Liam was in the middle of his bed, towel slung low in his hips. Pain radiated from him like heat from a flame. Somehow he was still beautiful. Perfect. It was all Cullen could do to keep from wrapping his arms around him. Instead he carefully sat down behind him, handed him the food and set to work on his injuries. 

He started out trying to just put the salve on the injuries, but there were so many and they criss-crossed Liam’s back like roads on a map. He finally gave up and just applied the salve everywhere. He got lost in the feel of his tan skin, the play of muscle underneath, the slight shudder that went through Liam as he ran a hand up his spine. The quiet intake of breath and swallowed moan as his fingers trailed lightly down Liam’s side. He was lost, trying to communicate how much he loved and nearly worshiped this man through his finger tips. 

Suddenly Liam gasped and let out a strangled cry. “Cullen, stop. I can’t. I just, I’m sorry. I have tried so hard to respect the boundary you set back in Haven. You have no idea what you do to me and I just, I won’t ruin a friendship because of my weakness. I’m sorry, I just...” 

Liam was struggling to get up, already half off the bed. Cullen caught him with a gentle hand on his arm. “What are you talking about? What boundaries did I set?”

“You were very clear that you only wanted a friendship from me. I have tried. I can usually do a better job of keeping the rest locked away, but right now I just can’t.” Shame and pain radiated from him as he pulled from Cullen’s grasp and reached for his clothes.

Cullen was stunned into silence, watching him move to dress. When his breeches and shirt were on he turned to Cullen, gaze firmly on his feet. “I hope I didn’t just ruin our friendship. I’ll...I understand if you aren’t comfortable with me now.”

Cullen found his voice as Liam turned to climb down the ladder. “I didn’t say I didn’t want more.” 

Liam paused, body rigid. “You are very sweet, Cullen, but I don’t want you to try to do something you don’t want out of pity or duty. You were very clear back in Haven.”

Cullen slowly moved towards his rigid form. “Apparently I wasn’t. I told you I couldn’t **offer** you more than friendship. I’m still not sure what I could possibly offer you and Maker knows I don’t deserve you.” Cullen reached out and cupped Liam’s face, urging the smaller man to look at him. “I never, ever said I didn’t want you. I have wanted you for far longer than I should admit.”

Liam was searching his face, looking for any trace of dishonesty. “Why didn’t you say something before now?”

“You deserve better. You deserve someone who is whole, who isn’t haunted by his failures, who hasn’t a chosen a path that is likely to kill him.”

“Cullen, you stubborn beast, there is no such thing as someone better than you. _Ma vhenan_ , what am I going to do with you?”

Cullen pulled him closer and planted a gentle kiss on Liam’s lips then pulled back to search his face. Liam’s hands fisted his shirt and pulled him close again. He dipped his head down for another kiss. This one more desperate, filled with months of denied desire and years of loneliness. When they finally broke apart to breathe they were clinging to one another, as if they each expected the other to disappear. 

_“lath ma.  Sathan tel din vara em.  Ar isala_.” Liam was tugging Cullen’s shirt off and pulling him towards the bed.

Cullen pulled him close, removing Liam’s shirt with one hand and pulling him in for another scorching kiss. He lowered Liam to the bed and braced himself on one elbow while he gazed at Liam’s naked torso, running his free hand over the muscles of his chest and abdomen, fingers teasing under the waist of his pants.

“Maker, you are perfect.” His voice was thick with need.

_“Sathan, Cullen.  Ar isala ma mala.”_ Liam stretched up to capture his lips for another scorching kiss, arching his body into Cullen’s caresses. His hands tugged at the laces for Cullen’s breeches and struggled to pull them down. 

Cullen pulled away just long enough to divest them both of their breeches and settled his weight back gently between Liam’s thighs. Liam wrapped his legs around Cullen’s waist and pulled him closer. “As beautiful as your words are, I don’t understand Dalish. So, until you teach me, tell me what you want, please.”

Liam took his face in his hands and met his gaze, “I need you now. _Isala ma mala._ Please, Cullen, take me.”

Cullen groped for the abandoned pot of salve and dipped his fingers in. He kissed Liam deeply as salve-slicked fingers sought his opening, gently teasing. Liam rolled his hips and impaled himself on the questing finger, moaning into their joined lips. Soon Liam was writhing on two of Cullen’s fingers. Incoherent noises of desire and pleasure pouring from his lips driving Cullen half mad.

Cullen felt slick fingers wrap around his impossibly hard cock. “Please, Cullen. I need you. _Isalethe, ma vhenan. Sathan.”_

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I am not some fragile flower and I have wanted this,” he punctuated that with a firm tug on Cullen’s cock, “inside me for far too long.”

Cullen added more salve to ease the process and lined up. He moved his hips forward in one long, very slow motion; pulling a continuous moan from Liam. When he was fully sheathed he paused. Liam’s legs were holding him in place with surprising strength. His body shuddered and twitched sending sparks of pleasure through Cullen. 

“ _Venuralas_ , Cullen, you are not small.”

“Are you all right? Should I”

“So help me if you pull out I’m tying you to the bed and riding you until I break us both.” That pulled a bark of laughter from Cullen and made him jerk his hips. Liam moaned. “I am not going to last long.”

“Then just enjoy.”

Cullen began to move, slowly at first, barely tilting his hips. Liam’s moans of pleasure punctuated every movement. He built up to long slow strokes. Liam would whimper at the loss as he pulled back, clutching at his back and digging in with his nails, then moan as Cullen pushed back forward. Cullen peppered his face with kisses, tasting the soft skin of his neck and chest. Nonsense spilled from both their lips. Cullen braced himself on one elbow and ran his other hand down Liam’s side.

With a muffled cry Liam’s untouched cock erupted between them, his body clutching around Cullen in waves that pulled him over the edge with a shout. His vision when white and he came back to himself gasping for air. 

Liam was watching him with a look he couldn’t decipher. He cupped Liam’s face and gently kissed him. “Are you ok, love?”

Liam’s legs tightened around him, keeping him from withdrawing, his mostly hard cock still buried inside the smaller man. “This is real. I never thought...I...” Liam’s eyes closed as he took a deep breath. “I am sorry, _ma vhenan_. I never expected this day to come.”

Cullen chuckled and kissed him softly on the forehead. “If it is not real, I don’t want to wake up.  I can’t imagine a demon peppering my fantasy with Dalish phrases I only half recognize. And you feel far better than I ever imagined.”

“Oh really. You imagined this, did you?” Liam tightened his body around Cullen’s cock in waves and laughed as Cullen collapsed against him with a moan.

“My fantasies were not nearly this good and if you keep that up round two will be starting immediately.” He felt the blush from that admission heating his face and chest.

“I think I want to hear about these fantasies of yours, Commander. But first...” Liam flipped them over without warning, landing astride Cullen’s hips and driving his cock deep inside. “First I plan to make another of mine come true.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dalish Translations:  
> Etunash Shit  
> Ar lath ma. I love you.  
> Sathan tel din vara em. Please don’t leave me.  
> Ar isala I need you (sexually/romantically)  
> Venuralas Gods  
> Sathan, Cullen. Please, Cullen.  
> Ar isala ma mala I need you now  
> Isalethe, ma vhenan. Sathan Need (sexual need) my love. Please.


End file.
